Down Syndrome Actress Leads U.S. Premiere of Jellyfish in St. Paul

Maeve Linkert, an actor with Down syndrome, plays Kelly in the U.S. premiere of Ben Weatherill's Jellyfish, running through November 8 at the Gremlin Theatre in St. Paul. The English playwright stipulates that in every production of Jellyfish, Kelly must be played by an actor with Down syndrome — a contractual condition that makes authentic casting part of the play itself.

The story follows Kelly, a 27-year-old woman in a seaside town who falls in love with Neil, a man without a disability. Her mother Agnes, played by Shanan Custer, fears her daughter can't have a healthy relationship — and that fear poisons their bond. "Kelly is in love with Neil, but that's why it's a secret relationship," Linkert explains.

The production comes from Unlabeled Theatre Company, whose mission is to uplift performers who are neurodivergent or living with disabilities.

What is a shadow partner?

The company's signature tool is the shadow partner — a supporting actor who works alongside a performer who is neurodivergent or has a disability. Custer served as Linkert's shadow partner in Unlabeled's 2025 production of The Addams Family, where Linkert played Morticia.

Jellyfish breaks that model. Linkert spent a year with the script and arrived at rehearsals with her own interpretation of Kelly. Lisa Hanson, her shadow partner here and the show's accommodations director, helped actors keep pace and follow the script. "When you look at the artistry behind it, it's all Maeve," Hanson says. "I'm just there as providing an accommodation."

Hanson, a special education teacher for 20 years before founding a school theater program that grew into Unlabeled, calls it the hardest show the company has done in more than a decade of the shadow partner model — and the most rewarding. The click came when the scripts went down. "We don't get to see people with disabilities on stage being angry, or being in love, or showing all these complex emotions," Hanson says.

How does the play avoid disability tropes?

Hanson and the director first read the script while she was teaching high school online during COVID. What drew them in was the portrayal. "We just don't get to see a multi-faceted person with Down syndrome on stage," she says. In Linkert's hands, Kelly is not "just this sweet, happy girl." She's feisty, she fiercely wants independence, and she wants a life beyond her mother.

Linkert's own answer to why authentic casting matters is direct: "It's good to share what people with Down syndrome see, feel, and experience. And how it all can be the same, or different for anyone else."

Custer, an improviser, points to the structural problem Jellyfish corrects: characters with disabilities usually sit on the fringes and serve as plot devices. "This play is about a young woman with Down syndrome. The end," she says. She wants audiences to sit in this family's world and ask whether they've ever seen it before, because disability stories are so often "filtered through able-bodied people."

What does this change for disability theater?

Beyond representation, the production argues for autonomy itself. Hanson notes the script refuses to tell audiences how to feel — "It's not wrapped up in a nice little bow" — and that Kelly swears, loves, and chafes at her mother's control. Society, Hanson says, tries to control whether people with disabilities have romantic relationships or even swear.

Linkert's favorite moment in rehearsal? "It was so fun getting angry at Kelly's mom." She hopes audiences enjoy the humor and remembers the play's line: "What about people who can't make friends? Or who don't laugh and are full of no love? They're the real disabilities I think."

Hanson says Unlabeled's own actors have changed through the process: "It's OK if I have feelings. It's OK if I swear." The production closes November 8.